Colonel Coffee, too, had come with his regiment of mounted riflemen, and was encamped five miles below the city.
Now Jackson knew that if he did not have time to throw up some earthworks, the city was likely to fall. In his usual fiery way, he made up his mind to attack the enemy that very night.
Meanwhile the British had built their camp fires along the levee, and were eating their supper. Not once did they think themselves in danger.
Soon after dark, a strange vessel, dropping quietly down the river, anchored within musket shot. Some of the redcoats thought it best to stir up the stranger, and so fired several times at her.
Suddenly a hoarse voice was heard, "Now give it to them, boys, for the honor of America!"
It was the Carolina, an American war schooner.
At once shot and shell rained on the British camp, killing or wounding at least a hundred men in ten minutes. The redcoats trampled out their camp fires, and fled behind the levee for shelter.
This was a rather warm reception, but it became a great deal warmer when Jackson charged into their camp. For two hours in the dark was fought a series of deadly hand to hand fights. The British used their bayonets, the riflemen their hunting knives.
At last, a thick fog from the river made it impossible to tell friend from foe. The redcoats retreated and found shelter behind the levee. The Americans fell back about three miles and camped.
This bold night attack cost the British five hundred in killed and wounded, and saved New Orleans from capture. Jackson had gained his point. He had dealt the enemy a sudden, stinging blow.